Moratorium
by Sorcha McCoy
Summary: What happens when your life is no longer in your hands? But in the Joker's... Contains 1 main original character but for the most part keeps with canon.
1. The Story So Far

Chapter 1 The Story so Far…

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. Wish I did cause that would be awesome...kinda wish I owned Christian Bale too. Alas maybe next Christmas.

"There he is!"

_Damn it, _thought Batman.

The patrolman had seen him. Batman took off running; his cape flowing behind him. He could hear the footsteps of the patrolmen behind him. All he did was break into the government office building. He needed some information on an employee he thought might be taking bribes from the mob. He was a bit careless coming out of the building and he set off the alarm. So now the boys in blue were after him.

It had been like this ever since Dent died. Ever since it got out that Batman had been the one to kill all those people and their white knight, Harvey Dent. Not to mention taking Gordon's family hostage. It was hard to remember that he done it to save Gotham; especially when the very people he was trying to help wanted nothing more than his head on a post. He jumped onto the batpod and was off; leaving the boys in blue in the dust.

* * *

Commissioner Gordon sipped at his morning coffee while reading the newspaper. It was so far a good morning. It was rare that he had a day off. It was about seven in the morning and his children were just getting up for school. His wife, Barbara, was making pancakes with chocolate chips, the kid's favorite, when his cell phone rang.

"Gordon." he said answering.

"Sir…we have a problem." said his lieutenant.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Arkham, sir." said the man. "There's been an incident."

Gordon's blood ran cold. "Did anyone escape?"

"We're not sure yet sir." said the man. "I hate to do this sir but-"

"I understand. I'll be in shortly." said Gordon. He hung up the phone.

"Work?" his wife asked.

"Yes…I am sorry but-"

"Go save the world, Jim." said Barbara.

* * *

"You're nine o'clock is already waiting, sir." said his secretary, Grace.

Bruce nodded. "Who is it again?"

"The mayor sir…he wants to talk about his re-election campaign." said Grace.

"He wants money?" asked Bruce absentmindedly.

"I think so sir," said Grace.

"Alright…what else do I have today?" asked Bruce tiredly.

"Well…you have yet to RSVP on the museum dedication, the Gotham Chronicle called and wants an interview with you about the current economic situation that the United States is seeing and the board needs your signature on next year's budget." said Grace.

Bruce sighed. "Alright…put it on my desk and…I'll get to it…eventually."

Grace nodded. "Also Nadia called and wanted to confirm your date with her tomorrow night." said Grace.

"Yeah…call her for me. Tell her I'll have to take a rain check." said Bruce.

"Yes, sir." said Grace.

She left Bruce in peace.

Sometimes Bruce didn't know which life was harder. His own…or Batman's. Everyday it was something urgent that needed his attention. This dedication or that politician - for some reason they always wanted Bruce Wayne's opinion. What the hell did he know about politics? Or for that matter about the new Museum display on Anthropomorphic gods in fifth century BCE in Greece? He rubbed his temples. Today was gonna be a long day.

* * *

_Three, two, one…BOOM!_

The explosion rocked the cellmates in Arkham. All around the "crazies" were yelling or beating their fists on their doors. But there was one in particular on the very lowest floor of Arkham who wasn't doing either. This man…was laughing. Because fortunately for him (and perhaps unfortunately for us) everything was going according to plan. He was going to show Gotham that no matter how rich, how influential or how powerful you were, you could always be reduced to nothing. It just meant applying the right leverage. And, boy, would he apply leverage.

"Wait till they get a load of me…" he said.

The Joker was back. And he had his sights set on someone. He wanted them to come out and play.


	2. Drunken Teenagers

Chapter 2 Drunken Teenagers

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. But I am sure whoever does is probably filthy rich. Kudos.

She opened the curtain revealing her third drunken teenager of the day. She could already feel the migraine approaching.

"I am Dr. Anna Townsend." she said looking at the three people behind the curtain. Two out of the three were standing. One was a girl who obviously was dressed up for clubbing. She had on the mini skirt with the sandals and her make-up was impeccably done. The other was a male with a polo shirt on and jeans. His hair was gelled and his cologne was making Anna gag. The third girl, her patient, was sprawled on the examination table very, very, very drunk. She was giggling and her coordination wasn't the greatest.

"So who wants to tell me what happened?" asked Anna looking around at the teenagers.

"Uh…we don't really know." said the sober girl. "She just…started acting like this."

Anna refrained from raising her eyebrow. She got it now. They were underage drinkers and they didn't want mommy and daddy to realize what they were doing on Fridays nights.

"You guys do know that anything you say here I can't tell to anyone. Even your parents." she said.

The boy and girl traded looks. "She's drunk." said the boy.

Anna nodded. "What's her name?"

"Elise." said the girl.

"Elise?" asked Anna. "I am Dr. Townsend. How much did you drink tonight?"

"Me?" said Elise. "I is not drinking, sir."

This time Anna couldn't resist raising the eyebrow. She really hated stupid teenagers. And if you added alcohol to it, well, to say the least she feared for the future of the world.

"Do you know how much she drank?" Anna asked the boy.

"I dunno. It was dark in the club and I wasn't exactly paying attention. I had two beers. Elise had two beers too because I bought them for her. But she got this other guy to buy her some rum and coke's too." he said.

"Right," said Anna. "I am afraid there is nothing I can do for drunkenness. Nothing medicinally anyways…We can give her some coffee and let her sleep it off for a little while. But that's it."

"You aren't gonna call our parents?" asked the girl.

"No…if you don't want me too I can't." said Anna. "And to be honest…your parents were probably guilty of this at some point in their life."

"I don't feel too good." said Elise suddenly.

"Don't worry. We're gonna get -"

That was when the annoying teenager who was drunk on the examination table decided to vomit all over Anna's shirt. She noticed that Elise must have had something with corn in it tonight.

A nurse came over to clean up Elise.

"Rose where are some clean scrubs?" asked Anna to the nurse.

"In the back. Try Exam Room three." she said.

Anna nodded. She took off her stethoscope and her white coat. She walked to the back. On her way she passed Brockridge. He was a fellow resident in her year. He was up for Chief Resident just like she was. But everyone knew Anna was destined to be Chief Resident - not Brockridge.

"Nice attire, Anna. Who designed it?" he asked.

"Fuck off," she said.

Anna turned and opened the door to Exam three. She went over to the glass covered cabinet and opened it. She rummaged around until she found a green scrub shirt that fit her. She took off her soiled one and put the scrub on. Anna shut the door and turned around. She looked up and nearly had a heart attack.

Standing there near the door was Batman. The guy that all of Gotham was after. She looked him up and down. He was covered head to toe in some kind of rubber armor. His head was hidden by a rubber helmet with bat ears. And his eyes were covered with dark make-up.

"What…what are you doing?" she asked quietly.

"Are you a doctor?" he asked in a gravelly voice.

She nodded. He walked over to her and she noticed it then. He was bending over slightly and pain etched his features. She finally got it.

"You're hurt." she said immediately and crossed the space between them in two seconds. She guided him over to an exam table. She turned on a small light that was used during suturing and looked at the wound. It was on his abdomen. She couldn't fully see it but she saw the blood leaking from the wound.

"What happened?"  
"Gun shot." he said.

She nodded. "Stay."

She ran to the door and locked it. She then went to the windows and closed the shades. Anna walked back over to the table and pulled the curtain around them. The last thing she needed was some nosy nurse to come in and see Him there.

She turned to him. "Is there a way to get this off? The chest part of the suit. You don't need to take off your, er, headgear."

"You don't want to know who I am?" he asked still in that gravelly voice.

She laughed. "I'd rather NOT be privy to Gotham's biggest secret, thank you very much."

He nodded. He started loosening the chest plate and after a few agonizing tugs later it was off. He dropped it on the floor.

Anna pulled the light closer and examined the wound. There wasn't an exit wound which meant that the bullet was still in there. But there wasn't a great deal of blood so hopefully it didn't hit any major organs. Whoever this guy was he was lucky.

She ran to the cabinet and grabbed a scalpel and some tweezers. And some pain meds. She walked back over.

"No pain meds." he said.

"What?" she said.

"No meds."

"Listen…the bullet is still in there. Which means I am gonna have to open the wound even more to go and fetch it. And it'll hurt. A lot."

"No pain meds." he said again.

Anna sighed. "Fine…" She put the meds down. She grabbed a pair of gloves and put them on. "I am gonna make an incision to open the wound a little more."

"Are you going to outline everything you do?" he asked.

"No…I am just warning you that it's gonna start to hurt now. So get ready." said Anna.

He nodded.

She made the incision and he barely flinched. Whatever this guy was on she wanted to some of it. She grabbed the tweezers and felt around. The wound wasn't deep which made her think that the armor must have slowed it down. Finally, she found the bullet hiding under some muscle. She pulled it out.

"Looks like a .22." she said.

"You know guns?" he asked.

She looked at him. "I work at a Gotham City Hospital. In the ER. I think I've seen a fair share of gun wounds in my time."

"Fair point." he said.

She cleaned and dressed the wound. "Stay. I am not finished with you."

He nodded. She went over to the door, unlocked it and took a glance outside. No one was there so she ran across the hallway to another room. It was the medications room. She went over and opened the drug cabinet and pulled out some antibiotics and some pain medication.

She ran back across the hallway and bolted the door again behind her. She walked over to him; amazed that he had actually listened to her.

"This -" she showed him the antibiotic. "is Amoxicillin. It's an antibiotic. It's in case of an infection. Take once every six hours. Understand?" He nodded again. "This -" she lifted the pain medication. "is Vicodin."

"I said no-"

"I know, I know. I am big tough Batman guy and I don't need pain meds. Listen buddy. When you get home, wherever that is, you're gonna want this. Especially tomorrow morning. Besides, my guess is is that you don't want people seeing you bending over in pain all day tomorrow. They might ask questions, right? About where you were?"

"Good point." he said. He took the Amoxicillin and the Vicodin.

She backed up and let him put back on the chest plate he took off. He turned towards her. "Thank you."

"Whatever. Just…get the hell out of my ER now." she said. She glanced at the door quickly and when she looked back he was gone. The window was opened and snow was pouring in.

"Damn…I wish I could do that. It would definitely help with ex-boyfriends."

* * *

Bruce rolled in bed and hissed in pain. He opened his eyes and gingerly sat up. His wound was fine but he definitely needed that Vicodin. Dr. Townsend was right. He did need it. He got up and grabbed his robe. He popped a pain pill in his mouth right when Alfred was walking in with his lunch.

"Good Afternoon, Master Wayne."

"Hello, Alfred."

"How is the wound, sir?"

"Fine…just a lot of pain. I don't think I want to be shot ever again." said Bruce.

"How did you get shot? Isn't the armor supposed to stop that?" asked Alfred as he placed down Bruce's meal.

"Lucky shot. It went in between the armor plates. Lucius said that that could happen with the new suit. But at least I can turn my head." said Bruce with a smile.

"True." said Alfred. "It was a convenient thing you were close to the hospital at the time, sir."

"Yeah it was." said Bruce.

Bruce usually stitched himself up if he got hurt but last night had been an exception. He didn't know where the bullet was and he didn't know if he could have gotten back to the Manor to find out. His only option had been to try and scare a doctor into fixing him up. He had gotten into the hospital through an open window and then hid out in an exam room until someone came in. His plan had been to ask for treatment and if that failed then to make them treat him. But it turned out he didn't have to do either. The doctor he ran into had been almost willing to help him. It was a rare event indeed when someone gladly helped Batman these days.

"Sir?" asked Alfred.

Bruce looked at his old friend. "What?"  
"What if this happens again?" Alfred asked.

"Alfred I am very careful." said Bruce.

Alfred smiled. "Master Wayne you are anything but careful. And you know that. With the departure of Lucius it might be wise to perhaps hire someone."

"Hire someone? To do what, exactly, Alfred?"

"To keep you in top health. A personal physician." said Alfred.

"Bruce Wayne doesn't need a personal physician."

"No…but Batman does." said Alfred.

"Alfred. No one wants to help Batman these days. And besides…I would have tell that person my secret. And I don't know if I am willing to do that." said Bruce. Especially since what happened to Rachel…

"Well…I wouldn't say that is totally true sir. After all…that physician last night helped you." said Alfred.

Bruce had to admit that Alfred was right. Dr. Anna Townsend. He had taken a glimpse at her name tag last night just in case he ever needed her again. And seeing how today was Saturday he had planned on looking her up; finding out about the doctor who had helped him. He figured he could at least send a fruit basket or something. But what Alfred said made sense. A doctor might be a good addition.

"Do you want me to get a doctor for Batman?" asked Bruce to Alfred.

"I worry. You know that." said Alfred.

For Alfred to say that it pretty much meant that he was scared for Bruce. Bruce nodded. "Fine. Let's see if Dr. Townsend would like to work for Bruce Wayne."


	3. Life is Good

Chapter 3 Life is Good.

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. I know it seems I am jumping from character to character. But there is a reason for this, just keep with it. Joker will pop up in the next chapter.

Andrew Copevole paced the courtroom with his hands clasped behind his back. His brown eyes surveyed the judge and the jury. He was halfway through his closing statement.

"As you can see, my client did absolutely nothing wrong. He is simply guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Those _goons_ forced him through duress to rob that bank. They were making threats against his family and his fiancé. He's a simple man, ladies and gentlemen, and a simple man is just not going to go up against thugs of this caliber. He had no fighting skills and no weapon. He had no _choice._" He looked into the faces of the jury. "Ask yourselves what you would have done? Threats against your family, the people you love, and no way to stop them. He was just hoping for everything to turn out right in the end. You, ladies and gentlemen, you can do that for him. This man is innocent and has been put through a terrible ordeal. You can give him freedom, you can send him back to his home and to his family. You people hold his life in your hands. Make the right decision and come to a verdict of Not Guilty. Thank you."

The attorney sat down. His client looked at him, back to the jury and bowed his head. Copevole truly did believe that his client was innocent. Mostly because there was no way a person this idiotic could have pulled off a bank heist.

The judge gave the jury their orders and the went off to deliberate. The attorney knew he had it in the bag.

* * *

"There is the man of the hour!"

Andrew turned to see Stephen Klein walking towards him. He was a senior partner of Andrew's law firm.

"Just got the news. A not guilty verdict again! How do you do it?" asked Klein.

"Oh you know, sir. Tough work." said Andrew.

Klein laughed. Andrew hated kissing ass (especially when it was Klein's) but he was in line for making partner, that is, once Llewylln stepped down. The man was like a hundred years old and still practicing law! Sometimes Andrew thought that the only way he was going to make partner was if Llewylln died.

"You know the senior partners are getting together this weekend to discuss some matters over dinner. I think you should join us, Andrew." said Klein.

_Yes, _thought Andrew. "I'll have to check my schedule, Mr. Klein but I will be more than happy to attend."

"Terrific, Andrew." said Klein.

Klein walked away with his entourage of secretaries.

Andrew walked into his office to work on some affidavits concerning a divorce case he was working on.

* * *

Andrew unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside. It was well past midnight when he got home but he managed to get ahead on his work so it was worth the lack of sleep. He dropped his briefcase on the chair, loosened his tie and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. He was just about to turn on the television when he realized he hadn't checked his messages yet. With a groan he got up and shuffled over to the answering machine. He had two messages. The first one was from his mother.

"Andrew, sweetie, how are you? I just called to see how everything was. Oh, I also met a great girl today. She's so adorable. She's Melanie's daughter. You remember her right? Well she is just the tops Andrew really. I told her all about you and she was _very _interested. I'll give you her phone number, it's -"

Andrew pressed erase. He didn't care about who the hell Melanie's daughter was (unless of course she looked hot in a bikini) so he waited and listened to the next message.

"Mr. Copeeeevvvollla. How are you this fine evening? I have a question concerning law for you."

Andrew was confused. He didn't recognize the voice and who the hell would call his personal phone with a question that was obviously suited for the office? He continued to listen to the message.

"If you wanted to send an innocent man to prison…how would you do that? Everyone, I've talked to says you are the man to ask…"

The message finished.

And Andrew was scared shitless.


	4. The Price of Success

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman. If I did I would write the next installment and make it so that David Tennant was the Riddler.

Author's note: Just wanted to say thanks to Neurotic-Isopod for being the first reviewer! Kudos and thanks for the review. Hopefully, with this chapter everyone can see what Joker has in store for some select Gothamites. Also thanks to anyone who read the story or who put it in their favorites.

Chapter four The Price of Success

Andrew was scared. Someone knew. He didn't know how but someone must know. He was just about to pick up the phone to call the police but then his reason kicked in. _No one could possibly know…what he had done. And it had been so many years ago. At the start of his career. He was just looking for a leg up. _

But the voice on the machine haunted him. The person sounded like they _did _know; like they knew _everything_ about him. Andrew shook his head. _No…it was just a prank. A joke. _It was just his brother being a jackass. He went to bed thinking nothing of it.

The next day Andrew got up to his alarm clock. He got up, got dressed, shaved and was out the door. He stopped by a Starbucks for his coffee and bagel sandwich. While waiting for his train to work he drank his coffee and read the newspaper. His train arrived like it always did and he was at work by nine.

His secretary, Alecia, greeted him and handed him his schedule and any calls he had gotten.

"Oh," she said to him. "I almost forgot. Someone sent this by carrier. It might be about the divorce thing."

Andrew nodded. He looked at the simple manila folder. There was no return address on it.

"Thanks,"

He walked into his office and put his briefcase down. He opened the manila folder and slid the contents of it out onto his desk. He looked through the contents. It was mostly pictures and articles. Andrew was confused until he took a closer look at the pictures themselves.

"Oh my god," he said.

Andrew realized the phone message wasn't a joke anymore.

When Andrew had started out his career, he had taken a murder case. This was when he had still worked for the district attorney's office. He was just a low level lawyer back then. The case he was given was ridiculous. A man had committed a robbery but someone had gotten killed in the process. The man they arrested for it was pleading innocence. There was some evidence tying him to the scene. A surveillance camera had got him coming into the store around the time of the murder. But there was no actual physical evidence tying him to the crime. It was an open and shut case. There was no way he could win it. There'd be a trial but it would come down to a not guilty verdict. That was until the mob got involved.

He was in his office finishing up some work when two men just waltzed right in.

"Hey!" he said affronted.

"Calm down buddy. We just want to talk with you." said one of the men.

"Okay," said Andrew hesitantly sitting back down.

The two men sat across from him. Andrew knew they must work for the mob. They had the typical mob look. Brawns and no brains. They both sported a leather jacket and Andrew saw a gun poking out of a belt. Only the mob could get into the courthouse with guns.

"What do you want?" asked Andrew slightly worried he had done something to attract the mob.

"We want to hire you, as it were." said one of the men.

"I work for the public. Not the mob." said Andrew.

The guy laughed. "Yeah but who do you think the public works for?"

Andrew couldn't disagree with that. Most of the people he worked for accepted money from the mob usually.

"It's the Tilden case." said the other man.

"The robbery/murder case?" asked Andrew confused. "That's open and closed. The guy didn't do it."

"Exactly. One of our guys did though. And we aren't finished with him yet. It would be very…inconvenient…to us if he went to jail now." said the man.

"What do you want me to do?" asked Andrew. But secretly he knew what they wanted.

"You're the prosecutor. Make the guy go to jail." said the man.

"I can't. One it would be unethical and two I just can't do it. All the evidence says he's innocent." said Andrew.

"Unethical? This is Gotham. Everything is unethical. And as for the evidence…we can supply that." said the man.

"What if I refuse?" asked Andrew defiantly.

"Oh that's simple. We kill you." said the man.

Andrew swallowed.

"It's not all bad. We would reward you handsomely. One million for services rendered." said

Andrew stared at them. One million. That would get him far. He could live off that and try to get into a real law firm.

"So…if I do this. I get one million and if I don't you kill me?" asked Andrew clarifying.

"Yes." said the other man.

"This million. It can't be traced back to the mob, can it?" asked Andrew.

"No. And besides…even if it was. No one would really care. Not in this city." said the man.

Andrew thought.

He could die or get a million dollars.

Andrew nodded.

"Glad you finally saw it our way, counselor." said the man. "We'll send someone over to set up the evidence."

That had been years ago. He had used the million to finance himself while he looked for work at the law firm. And that was how he got to this law firm and now he was almost partner.

The man he had helped frame went to jail. Charlie Tilden had went to jail for a murder he didn't commit. The mob had placed DNA evidence on a gun used to kill the store clerk. After that had been discovered it pretty much made sure he was going to prison.

But then he died. In prison during a riot. He had been trying to hide and one of his more murderous inmates killed him in a fight. Andrew felt horrible when he heard the news. But there was nothing he could do for him now. And now years later it was coming back to haunt him.

Someone found out. But how could they have? No one knew. Well, except for the mob. And he wasn't naïve. He knew they would turn on him under the right circumstances. But the man on the phone didn't sound like a mobster. He sounded - insane.

Andrew looked through the pictures. One caught his attention. It was obviously taken during the trial. Tilden was being led into the court with his feet and hands shackled. And on the bottom of the paper was some words written in red. "What an innocent looking guy…"

He sat down and stared out the window. What did they want? Obviously he was being blackmailed. But what did they want? Money. It had to be money. Well he could fix that. Blackmailers always eventually told you what they wanted and when this person did that he would just give it up. The money didn't matter. What the problem was, was that this could not get out. It would ruin him entirely. No making partner, no more job and definitely no more law license. Nobody would speak to him; his parents would certainly disown him.

He would wait. Whoever this was would make their intentions clear soon.

***

When Andrew got home that day he was stressed to say the least. He immediately went to his answering machine. But there wasn't any messages. He would just have to wait.

He went to his desk and opened a drawer. He pulled out a bottle of whiskey and took a shot. This was going to be a long week, he thought.

***

Two days later there was another manila folder waiting for him at his office. Alecia asked what they were all about. He just told her it was a consultation he was doing. She didn't ask anymore questions after that.

He went into his office and locked the door. He ripped open the folder. It was more articles. But this time it was about the verdict. Articles like: "Robbery/Murder Verdict - Guilty" and "District Attorney's Office Wins Case".

And on the bottom of the one of the articles from the Gotham Chronicle was more writing. Always in red…It said: "Way to go buddy!".

It was like this person was taunting him. They knew the story; they must. They knew what happened to Tilden after that. Andrew grounded his teeth together. Couldn't they just tell him what they wanted already? He hated this cat and mouse game this person was playing with him. There was nothing for two days from this guy and now he struck.

Andrew sighed and put the contents back into the folder. It was back to his waiting game.

***

Andrew went home after a very long day. He was seriously stressed out now. He was watching people he worked with and people on the street like they knew everything. He was beginning to get paranoid. He snapped at his secretary all day today. But she just couldn't leave him alone.

He slammed his front door and threw his briefcase down. He headed over to the window in darkness and looked out it. There wasn't anyone following him. He had checked. He pulled down the blinds and sat in the darkness for a little while. He needed to just chill out. Just think this through and figure out what they wanted. It had to be money. Or maybe it was personal grudge? It could be Tilden's family. They knew he was innocent and for years they had been fighting the verdict. Maybe, finally, they had figured it out. He hoped it wasn't that. It would be harder to keep them quiet.

* * *

He watched the lawyer look out the window. He definitely didn't look like he had had a good day. He smiled. Just one more day should do it. He'd have to simmer. Kind of like a good wine…they only got better with time.

The man turned and faded back into the shadows of the alleyway.

* * *

"Anything for me today, Alecia?"

Alecia looked up. Her boss was there. He didn't exactly look like himself. He hadn't shaved and it looked like he hadn't sleep either.

"No, sir. Nothing today." she said.

"Good…" said Andrew. "Good…okay…I'll be in my office."

Alecia nodded.

He really hadn't been himself the last couple of days. He was, Alecia tried to find the right word, skittish. Almost like he was being hunted. It must just be stress. It got to the best of us eventually.

* * *

Andrew Copevole wasn't having a good day. And it was about to get worse. He got home and before he even turned on a light he went straight to the kitchen to get beer. Getting drunk sounded like a very good idea tonight. He walked into the living room and turned on the light.

But someone was there. On his couch.

"Mr. Copevole…" the man said.

Andrew stared. He knew that face. The white face paint and the red lips. He had seen it on television for weeks. It was that terrorist. The Joker.

"You're that man…" said Andrew quietly.

"You know me!" said the Joker giggling. "Wow…this must be what Brad Pitt feels like."

"Wh-what do you want?" asked Andrew staring at him.

"Oh you know - the usual - chaos, mayhem, destruction. But to start…how about we have a little chat."

"About what?"

"Justice." said the Joker.

"Ju-justice?"

"Yeah!" said the Joker. "You know the statue of the lady whose always blindfolded and carrying those ridiculous scales. You see I was wondering how a man who spends his whole professional life fighting for justice and who is so idealistic," the man paused and smiled. "can put an innocent man behind bars?"

"I…I…," Andrew squared his shoulders. "I had no choice."

The Joker laughed. "There is always a choice, you silly boy. Always. You…aren't being honest with yourself."

"Yes I am. They…they were going to kill me. What could I do?"

"Oh…well…I suppose if everyone who's ever been threatened against just gave up like you did then we would live…well…we'd live in what I'd consider heaven…Imagine it…everyone running around scared and giving up…acting like chickens with their heads cut off. I'd absolutely _love_ to see that."

"I didn't give up. I just…What else could I have done!?" asked Andrew angrily.

"Well…a very many number of things…call the police, move away, fight…take your pick." said the Joker counting them off on his fingers.

"The mob is powerful. They would have gotten to me." said Andrew. "They would have killed me anyways."

The Joker laughed and sprang from the couch. He stood in front of Andrew. "That's the beauty of it, m'boy." he said. "You…were thinking about yourself. Selfish…screw the rest of the people in the world…Andrew was safe…Andrew got a million dollars…Andrew succeeded. Poor Charlie though…what happened to him?"

"Like you don't know." said Andrew.

"That's not what I asked…you're not playing the game right, Andy." said the Joker. "I asked…what happened to Charlie?"

Andrew sighed. "He died."

"How?"

"By an inmate."

"Wrong answer." said the Joker.

"No…that's what happened. During a riot. An inmate killed him."

"Oh I know that…but…let me put it in another way…Would Charlie have died…if you hadn't have sent him to prison?"

Andrew stared at the Joker with wide eyes.

The Joker licked his lips. "You see, Andy m'boy, Charlie was only there…because of you. Because of your cowardice, your selfishness…I mean I've searched far and wide for a person who was really selfish and I hit the jackpot with you, buddy. That inmate or whatever didn't kill Charlie…you did."

"I didn't kill him."

"No…but he was there because of you. Maybe killed isn't the right word…I'll use a term you lawyer people like to use a lot…I think it's called…negligence…right? You were negligent…or or…accidental murder. Yeah that's a good one…accidental murder…But still…anyway you cut it Andrew…you're still a murderer. You're still…well…me!"

"I am nothing like you."

The Joker started to circle Andrew.

"Oh well…yeah…that is true. I am of a special breed, I suppose but…we're in the same category at least Andy. I mean…I terrorize people because I think it's fun…you sent a man to prison…well…for your own selfish needs. So…you and me are the same."

The Joker stopped circling him.

"Listen…I've got another appointment I have to make…" said the Joker. "So…here's my card…and for homework Andy…I want you to think about what I said…" said the Joker. He patted Andy on the head and skipped out of his apartment.

* * *

Andrew barely made it into work. He was sweating. Not because it was hot outside or anything. He still felt the Joker's breath on his neck and his voice in his head. For a maniac the guy made a lot of sense. Andrew had been selfish. He had killed Charlie. And Andrew was convinced completely that everyone knew. People on the street were staring at him weird. They would look at him and then when he turned to look at them they looked away. But they had been staring at him. They were whispering about him too. People would walk behind him and talk on their cell phones about him. He heard them. He knew that they knew what he had done. They just weren't saying it to him. It made him sweat. He felt like the whole world was collapsing around him; suffocating him. Why couldn't they see that there was nothing he could have done? He wanted to scream at them.

His secretary knew too. He could see it in her eyes. She was accusing him.

"Hello, sir." she said. "You have two messages. But besides that nothing."

She was playing the nice act; pretending like she didn't know but Andrew knew better. He grabbed the messages and walked into his office. He slammed the door.

* * *

"No I am serious, Tina." said Alecia. "Something is up with him."

"It's stress, Alecia. I mean Mr. Klein when he was trying to make partner nearly fainted because he hadn't eaten for two days." said Tina. She was Klein's personal secretary.

They were at lunch discussing Andrew's weird behavior. He had locked himself in his office and hadn't come out since he went in there this morning.

"He'll be out of it in no time." said Tina.

Alecia hoped so. She liked Andrew. He was charming and really smart. But the last couple of days he had been…scaring her.

She came back from lunch and there was one of those manila folders on her desk again. And then she realized that ever since they had been arriving Andrew had been acting weird. Curiosity overcame her and she opened the folder.

It was a newspaper obituary. It seemed to be about a inmate who died during a riot. There was some words written on the bottom of it in big red letters. It said: "How does it feel to know you've killed someone?"

Alecia didn't know what to make of that. She looked at Andrew's door. It was still shut. She went over and knocked on it.

"Leave me alone!"

"Sir…there's something you need to see." she said.

"I don't care!"

"It came in one of those manila folders." she said hoping to get him to come out.

She heard the lock click and there stood Andrew. He took one look at her and then at what was in her hand. He grabbed it and looked at it.

"I knew it." he said.

"Knew what?" she asked confused.

"You know. Everyone knows." said Andrew really loudly.

People had started looking at him because he was talking loudly.

"Why is that none of you can look at me?!" he screamed at them. "It's because you know! The whole world knows."

Andrew grabbed Alecia by the shoulders and shook her.

"I didn't know what to do. What else was I supposed to do? What else? No one can answer that. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Do about what?" she said quietly.

"No…no…no, no, no, no, no…don't play that game. Don't pretend that you don't know. You do. You know. So just tell me!"

"Mr. Copevole…Andrew…I don't know what you're talking about." she said.

"STOP SAYING THAT!" he screamed at her.

"I think someone should call security." said one of the lawyers behind Alecia.

"I didn't know what else to do…" said Andrew. "They would have killed me."

"Well…then…there was nothing else you could do." said Alecia trying to calm him down.

"No…no…there was….He said so. _He _said there was always something to do. I was just being selfish." said Andrew. "So tell me what I could have done?"

"Andrew…" said Mr. Klein behind Alecia. "We don't know what you're talking about, son. Why don't we just calm down, now."

Andrew started to laugh. "Why…do you people still want to play this game? You know. You whisper behind me and point fingers but then when I turn to look you don't look at me."

"Maybe you should go home Andrew." said Klein. "Take a few days off."

"You think…I need a VACATION!" said Andrew.

"I think you need help." said Klein.

"I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK!" said Andrew.

He grabbed Alecia by the neck and threw her into his office. He locked the door and shoved his desk in front of it. Alecia watched him pace the office like a caged tiger.

* * *

"What's the status?" asked Gordon to his SWAT team leader.

"The suspect is currently locked in his office, sir. And it seems he's got a hostage." said the officer.

"Any windows?"

"Three. Looking out to the street. He's on the fifth floor, though. We have a clear shot though if we need it."

"Let's leave that for last option." said Gordon. "I don't want a dead hostage."

"I know."

"Have the negotiators gotten to work?"

"Yes sir. They're in contact with him now."

"Do we know why he's doing this?" asked Gordon a little confused.

"Not really sir. He went on about how people know something…but nobody knows what he's talking about. He's paranoid like crazy though." said the officer.

Gordon nodded. "Tell the negotiators to go easy with him. I don't want them spooking him."

"Right, sir."

Gordon watched the suspect through some binoculars. They were set up across the street on a building's roof. The man kept pacing and he was talking on a cell phone. They waited for the negotiators to do their thing.

But a half an hour later they still hadn't gotten anywhere.

"He's not working with us sir," said Dean. He was the lead negotiator. "He is extremely paranoid. He keeps saying that we know what he did."

"Do we have any idea what he's talking about?" asked Gordon.

"Not a frickin' clue, sir." said Dean.

Gordon nodded. "Keep working with him."

Dean nodded.

"Do we have a team ready to move in?" asked Gordon.

"Yes sir. Delta team is ready. They are a floor below the office." said Dean.

"Get them up there. If he even gets distracted for a second I want them ready to burst in." said Gordon.

"Delta team take position." said Dean into the comms.

"Try distracting him, Dean. Get him to talk about the weather or something." said Gordon.

Dean nodded.

Five minutes later their chance came. The hostage's cell phone had rung. And the suspect had gotten distracted for just a second. Delta team moved in their guns ready. They got the suspect down on the floor and the hostage was led out of the room. It had been a clean take down. And Gordon was relieved. He went down to see what state the suspect was in.

"You all know!" he said as they got him into the ambulance. "He knew. So you ALL must know. You must. What was I supposed to do? What else? What else…"

Gordon shook his head. He obviously had had a mental breakdown. Probably due to work or something. Someone looked at him the wrong way today and it just set him off.

* * *

The Joker smiled. The lawyer had gone completely schizo. And he was being taken by the boys in white coats to the nice place with the padded walls. Good. One down…millions to go. The Joker took a picture out of his pocket. He stroked it. She was next. This was going to be fun.


	5. Bruce Wayne?

Disclaimer: I don't own Batman or anything else. I do have a figurine of Joker though...

Author's note: This is just a note for the next chapter. That chapter is really where the M rating of this story starts. There will be rather mature themes going on. So I am just giving you readers a heads up.

Chapter 5 Bruce Wayne?

Anna Townsend wasn't having a good day. Not at all. First of all, when she went to catch her taxi to work (you wouldn't catch Anna on the subway) she had gotten rain water all over her clothes. Then when she got to work she realized that there were only three doctors on call today which meant that every crazy person in Gotham was going to be in here because they always seem to know when they were short staffed. But what happened next was the worst.

She went behind the desk and was about to grab her lab coat when Dexter, one of the two male nurses on staff, came up to her. Dexter was about average height with dark brown hair and brown eyes.

"Did you see?" he asked.

"No what?" she said distracted. _Where did I put that pen?_

"The Committee finally put the list up for Chief Resident." said Dexter.

"That's good." said Anna. "Wait…what?" She looked up.

"Chief Resident. It's out."

"Oh my god." she said. She ran to the bulletin board. She read the notice in three seconds. "What?!"

"That's right." said a voice behind her. "Chief Resident Brockridge."

Anna groaned. She turned around. It was Brockridge. Brockridge and Anna had never gotten along. Ever. Their rivalry had started nearly immediately. One of Anna's first days at Mercy (she had originally worked at Gotham General) she had had to save one of Brockridge's patients. He had given her a medication that she was allergic to. The allergy was clearly marked on her chart but Brockridge in his infinite wisdom had not paid attention. Brockridge was about 5'11 with blonde hair. And if he didn't open his mouth he looked like a nice guy. But unfortunately he kept opening his mouth.

"That job was mine." Anna growled.

"Now, now Anna…don't count your chickens before they hatch." he said shaking his finger at her.

"I am serious, Brockridge. How the hell did you get that job?"

"I am qualified." he said simply. "I deserved that job."  
"Bullshit." said Anna fiercely. "The only reason you're even a doctor is so you could get that cool little title in front of your name. You know nothing about being a real doctor."

"I went through medical school same as you Anna." said Brockridge glaring at her.

"Yeah…but you always forget to tell people that you flunked out of law school first." said Anna. "Your rich father - oh my god…that's how."

"What?"

"Your rich father. How much did he donate to the hospital to get you that position?" asked Anna furiously.

Brockridge glared at her again. "50,000. He's getting a wing named after him too."

Anna gnashed her teeth and turned on her heel. She wanted to smack him. No…she wanted to kill him. That position was hers. Everyone had said so. She was a graduate of John Hopkins and Dr. I-got-my-degree-from-the-traveling-circus somehow got Chief Resident. Anna wanted to throw something.

"Hey Anna!" said Rose from the desk. "You've got a phone call."

_Oh yippee!_ thought Anna sarcastically.

She grabbed the phone, glared at it and then tried to answer in a civil tone.

"Dr. Townsend."

"Dr. Townsend, I am calling from Bruce Wayne's office."

Anna blinked. "What?" Her anger at Brockridge was completely forgotten.

"Bruce Wayne was wondering if you had time to see him." said the girl on the phone.

"Bruce Wayne wants to know if _I_ have time for _him_?" she asked incredulously. Wasn't Bruce Wayne the guy that _other_ people made time for?

"Yes, doctor. He wishes to discuss something with you."

"What?" she asked.

"I don't know, Dr. Townsend. He didn't discuss it with me." said the secretary.

"Well…I am at work till three in the morning. I don't know…I am off tomorrow. I suppose I could see him then." said Anna.

"That's fine. He has an opening for eleven thirty, is that fine with you?" asked the woman.

"Um…yeah that's fine." said Anna.

"Terrific. Mr. Wayne looks forward to meeting you. Goodbye."

Anna hung up. This day was getting weirder and weirder.

* * *

Later that night, Batman landed on Dr. Anna Townsend's small balcony and entered into her apartment. He knew she was at work at the moment so there was no chance she was going to come home and catch him there.

He had decided that before meeting her he had to know more about her. He had already looked her up the official way going through old documents. But those things only told you the surface of the person - their outside appearance to the world. He wanted to know the real Anna Townsend.

Batman landed into her living room. He looked around. It was a normal living room. Television, couch, coffee tables. It was a bit messy but he figured she probably didn't clean up for him. It was a small studio apartment which meant not much room for things. He quickly made his way into the dining room. He saw a computer on a desk over in the corner. He went over to it. Luckily for him, it was still on and he didn't need a password. He looked through her documents and her recent internet activity. She had some work documents on here and her recent internet activity just showed her email and news websites. There wasn't any pictures on the computer of her or anyone appearing to be friends or family.

He walked into her kitchen. Out of curiosity he looked in the refrigerator. There were staple items like milk and butter. But there were also lots of take out leftovers as well. She obviously wasn't much into cooking.

Batman headed towards the Bedroom. He opened the door and looked around. There was a bed, dresser and nightstand in the room. He went over to the nightstand next to the bed. There wasn't any pictures on the nightstand. Usually people with loved ones kept pictures of them on the nightstand. He looked around for family photos or pictures of boyfriends or something. Over on the dresser were a batch of photos. They were of an older woman - probably her mother - and a man surrounded by his family who probably was her brother. There was also a picture of a small boy about eleven or twelve. Son perhaps? No the photo looked too outdated to be her son. Besides her dossier didn't say anything about a marriage or children. Based on the age of the photo he'd say the boy would be an adult by now.

She was obviously not too close to her family or there would be more photos of them in the apartment. That or she wasn't that sentimental. Batman had a feeling it was a bit of both.

He walked over to the closet and opened it up. Inside were a lot of t-shirts and jeans. Obviously she wasn't overly into fashion. She did have some nice outfits - and a gown or two in the back of the closet. One handbag and less than a handful of shoes. He closed the closet door.

He went back into the living room. He looked around to see if he missed anything. He saw a bookcase and went over to it. There were many medical books - probably from her days at med school. There were also a variety of novels and even a self-help book. Batman surveyed the room again and noticed an answering machine over by the tv. It was flashing.

She obviously didn't check her messages very often. He went over and pressed the play button.

"Anna, dear. It's your mother. Are you purposely ignoring me this time or are you truly that caught up in your own life that you can't give your own mother a call. Are you coming for Christmas or not? Brian and the kids want to know. Call me."

Her mother didn't sound distraught or even alarmed that her daughter hadn't called her. It sounded more like nagging if anything from Batman's view. Dr. Townsend obviously had a very overbearing mother.

Another message played.

"Anna, it's Claudia. Girl when are we going out? Me and the girls are getting together tonight. Like the old days…remember? When you had a social life? There's this really cute guy coming…girl you have to have a day off sometime this week. Life can't be all about the hospital. Call me!"

Small clique of girls probably from her college days. They confirmed Batman's suspicions. She was dedicated to her work - almost on the side of being addicted to it. She didn't have any significant others or her girlfriends wouldn't have been trying to set her up with someone.

All in all, Batman thought Anna was an excellent choice to help him. She was dedicated to medicine - even obsessed with it, she had no close family to her and no boyfriend which meant no distractions from helping him. She was obviously used to long hours if she took the night shifts all the time so helping him in the middle of the night wouldn't be a problem. She had little social life similar to Bruce. Bruce had a little more of a social life then her but only for appearances sake.

Batman stalked back over to the balcony and leaped off it. After all he had an early meeting with a doctor.

* * *

The next day found Anna outside Wayne Tower dressed in a very smart suit. Her auburn hair was pulled back and she hoped she looked decent. She took a deep breath and went inside. She went to the security desk.

"Um…I have an appointment with Bruce Wayne but I am not entirely sure where to go." she said politely to the guard.

"Name?" he asked.

"Dr. Anna Townsend." she said.

He looked her name up on a clip board. "ID?"

"Excuse me?"

"ID. I need to see some identification." said the guard.

"Oh…right…sorry." She rummaged in her purse and pulled out her ID. She handed it to him. He looked at it, then at her and handed it back.

"Follow me please," he said. He took her down a hallway towards a private elevator.

She followed him inside and the doors closed. They went all the way up. To the fortieth floor. Anna hoped she didn't pass a window. She hated heights. Finally the doors opened and she stepped out into a waiting room. A very well decorated and expensive waiting room. Marble floors, leather couches and two very grand desks that held two secretaries behind them decorated the room.

Anna walked up to one of them. "Um. I am Dr. Anna Townsend. I believe I have an eleven-thirty appointment with Mr. Wayne."

"Of course. Mr. Wayne is just finishing up another meeting. You can have a seat until he's done." said the woman.

Anna nodded.

She walked over to the couch and sat down. She stared around her. What the hell was she doing here? Yesterday she had no intention of actually coming to the appointment. That was until she had talked to her mother.

"Anna…what if he wants to offer you a job?" said her mother. "Bruce Wayne can open doors for people. Getting a job with him can really spur you on to better and bigger things. I mean…did you really want to work at the ER all your life?"

_Yes_, thought Anna. But she didn't say that her mother. Anna really didn't know what she was doing here. Maybe it was the fact that she didn't get Chief Resident. She had this fantasy in her head where she told everyone she was quitting to work for Bruce Wayne. The look on Brockridge's face was priceless. But Anna would never actually quit the hospital. Not without a very good reason. She became a doctor to help people; not to boast about her job.

"Dr. Townsend?"

The sound of her name brought her out of her reverie. She looked to the secretary.

"Mr. Wayne will see you now." she said.

Anna nodded. She got up and smoothed her jacket out. She walked to the doors and pulled one open.

She found herself in a large room with windows on the left side of the room from floor to ceiling. She couldn't help but look at how high they were.

"Dr. Townsend."

Anna pulled her eyes from the windows and looked at the man in front of her. Bruce Wayne was walking towards her. His brown hair was impeccably done and he was wearing a suit that was probably more expensive than her rent for her apartment. And Anna couldn't help but notice how good looking he was in person.

"Mr. Wayne." she said. He extended his hand and she shook it.

"It's finally nice to put a face to the name," he said.

She nodded.

"Please have a seat." he said motioning towards the chairs in front of his desk. "Can I get you anything? Coffee, water, tea?"

"No," said Anna sitting down. "I am fine."

Wayne sat down across from her. "You're probably wondering why I wanted to meet you."

_That, Mr. Wayne, is the understatement of the century,_ thought Anna. "I was curious when your office called." said Anna.

He smiled. "Of course. You see a friend of mine suggested that I might look into getting a personal physician."

It took every ounce of will power Anna possessed not to groan. She had hoped this wasn't what he wanted, but it was.

"A personal physician?" she said.

He nodded. "I called around to some of the local hospitals and your name came up when I phoned Mercy Hospital."

"Seriously?" she asked.

"Yes. Why?"

"Well…I just didn't think I was highly valued." said Anna. Especially after what happened with Brockridge.

"Funny…the director of the hospital thought you were highly qualified. He even mentioned you were up for Chief Resident." said Mr. Wayne.

"I was…I didn't get it. Another doctor by the name of Brockridge got it." said Anna. The fact she had to admit that stung.

"Brockridge?" said Wayne. "No relation to Stuart Brockridge is there?"

"His son…unfortunately." said Anna.

Wayne smiled. "His father bought him the position didn't he?"

"Yup." said Anna.

"Well anyway, I understand that this is out of the blue. But after talking with the director of Mercy hospital I really want to hire you as my personal physician." said Mr. Wayne.

"I don't know, Mr. Wayne. I am an emergency medicine doctor. You need a primary care physician." said Anna.

"You mean you can't do what a primary care physician does?" asked Mr. Wayne confused.

"No…I can…I just…I deal with car accidents and gun shot wounds. Not…the flu and a sprained ankle." said Anna.

"I understand. I don't want you to make a hasty decision." He pulled open a drawer, pulled something out of it and walked towards her. He leaned up against his desk and handed her an envelope.

"What's this?" she asked.

"It's an invitation. I am throwing a Gala this Friday night. Do you think you'll have a decision by then?" he asked.

"Um…yes…yeah. By then." said Anna.

"Good. You can come to the Gala and give me your answer there." said Wayne.

"Ok…that sounds good." said Anna.

"Terrific." said Wayne. "I hate to end this so quickly but I have an appointment with the Prime Minister."

"Prime Minister?" said Anna as she got up.

"Yes…you know…of England." said Wayne.

"Oh…right…cause…everyone always has appointments with Prime Ministers all the time." said Anna.

Mr. Wayne smiled. "See you this Friday, Dr. Townsend."

Anna shook his hand once more and turned to leave. She opened the door and walked to the elevator wondering what she was going to do come Friday…

* * *

Bruce watched Dr. Townsend leave. She had been acting a little weird around him since she meet him. But that last remark reminded him of the Dr. Townsend he had met the other night. His wound was healing well and he had no infection so she knew what she was doing. And he had actually called the director of Mercy Hospital and he had glowing remarks about her. Bruce had also done his homework. She went to the State University and then went right on to medical school. And it wasn't just any medical school - it was John Hopkins. She graduated second in her class and she chose, instead of working for any number of government offices or private companies, to work for a local hospital back home. And she had helped Batman when nobody in this city wanted to anymore. Now all he had to do was convince her that working for him was a good idea. And Bruce wasn't exactly sure how he was going to do that.


End file.
